


A Nordic Delicacy

by danithemani



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dark Brotherhood - Freeform, Eventual Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, Farkas Is A Virgin, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Flamboyant Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gentle Sex, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mages, Male Slash, Not No More, Oral Knotting, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Skyrim Civil War, Stormcloak Victory, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves, Werewolves have wolf penises, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-24 11:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13810566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danithemani/pseuds/danithemani
Summary: The new Thane seems to stir up conversation wherever he goes, but Farkas never paid it any attention. He was an Elf, in dark shrouded robes, that sided with the Stormcloaks and divided Skyrim. He still wasn't Farkas' problem. That is, until the Jarl assigned him personally to work with him.*This work is undergoing extensive editing and is still active. Please be patient!*





	1. Elves Are Strange

There was something about the traveler that made the Wolf uneasy. His scent was strong. But a lot of people in town didn’t like the change he brought with him. He had heard people speak in hushed tones as he walked by, that he was aligned with people that Vilkas told him were bad. Others said that he was the Dragonborn and he deserved the utmost respect - he was chosen by the gods themselves, they said. Whatever he was, the only thing people were really sure of was that he brought change. The Stormcloaks were in control now and Balgruuf was gone. Why would an Elf want the Legion out of Skyrim? But Kodlak said not to listen to rumors.

It didn’t matter. The Jarl is the Jarl whether he was Balgruuf or the newly appointed Gray-Man. Besides, his services were already paid for, and there was always extra coin for when a specific Companion was requested. In any case, Farkas was tasked to meet his new employer outside the Hall of the Dead. Being so close to the dead made Farkas uneasy. He began to wonder why he had chosen this place when they could have met in the inn, or in the marketplace, or even outside the gates. But why this dim, dusty place?

“Companion?” Farkas heard a new voice shout. He looked up to see a figure unlike any other he had seen before. His Wolf was writhing. He was short in stature, lean and a deep shade of blue. That fit the description of the new Thane alright. He had strange clothes and a hood that shadowed over his face, and gloves and tall boots. Not an inch of skin was showing outside of what Farkas could see of his face. And there was something even stranger about his eyes. They seemed to - glow?

“Companion, is that you?”

“Uh, oh. Yes. I’m Companion, I mean - er,” Farkas was struggling for words.

The figure outstretched his hand, walking into the shadow of Hall of the Dead. He seemed more at ease there, but Farkas knew that Elves were strange. He knew a few Dunmer; Athis was hard to get along with, but he had respected Irileth when she was still Housecarl. He knew of Jenessa, the mercenary, but their paths had never crossed. It was all the same, he had heard his brother mention he had met better company at the stables.

“Eranthur, it’s a pleasure, I’m sure,” the Elf said. He had a slight lilt to his voice, “but if you’d rather, Companion, you can call me Nat.”

“Farkas, I’m Farkas. I’m a Companion,” he answered. The Elf blinked at him. The Nord was already fumbling with his words.

“Yes, I gathered. Well, off we go then. Are you ready?”

Farkas only patted the knapsack strapped to his back in response.

“Good then. It will be a long journey. I rented a room at an inn. It will be a few days journey. Our destination is near Solitude, so I don't expect this to be a one day trip. Shall we?”

And with that, the Elf turned and began to walk toward the gates of Whiterun. As he watched him move with grace, in his tight-fitting robes, the Wolf in Farkas began to stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](https://ko-fi.com/C0C8ISCF) If you really, really like my work or are just into sending good vibes in the form of monetary compensation, [Support Me on Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/C0C8ISCF)  
>  Every little bit helps - but my work will always be free and open to the public. Please only help if you can. Thank you so much for reading!


	2. Close Quarters

The two travelers had suffered a fairly uneventful journey on their way to the inn, coming across only a few wolves and a few rather ambitious Skeever in the swamp outside the city. They had stopped in Morthal to rest their weary bones before making the cold trek to Pinemoon Cave. However, upon arrival, Ernathur had encountered a snag in his plan he didn't anticipate.

The Dark Elf blinked again. “There’s only one bed in this room.”

“Did you expect two?” Farkas realized this was a dumb question. “I can sleep on the floor if you want.”

“No, there’s no need for that, unless you’re more comfortable there. I suppose I could rent another room.”

“No!” That was too excited and the other man could tell. “I mean, uh. I wouldn’t want you to waste any more money on me. ”

“Well it won’t be a waste, Companion. I’ve-”

“Farkas. You can just call me Farkas.” He was quickly making a fool of himself. His brother was right. He could feel the blood rush to his face.

“Very well, Farkas.” The elf had ignored all his indiscretions so far. Had he not noticed?

“Regardless, it wouldn’t be a waste. It’s worth more gold to me to have you in the best fighting condition.”

“I can stay.” He blinked again. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“There isn’t a need.”

“But, Thane-”

“Farkas,” the mage smiled, “I’m not afraid to share a bed with a warrior.” Farkas was relieved, he didn’t want to leave, really. He just didn’t want to embarrass himself anymore. He enjoyed his company, but there was something about the strange man that he couldn't shake. He looked into the elf's eyes and he thought he saw a glimmer of something. Farkas couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but his Wolf wanted him to stay.

The elf closed the door behind him. Farkas laid on the bed. He had only taken off his armor and his shoes and he was beginning to get warm with just a cuirass. He had changed in front of his fellow Companions before, male and female alike. He had been healed by strangers before and had to disrobe to less than this. But this was different, something about the Thane that made him self-conscious about his body. He would stay in his furs.

His new traveling partner didn’t seem to mind the cold as much as he had expected, however. He turned his back to Farkas and slipped his robes off, revealing beauty underneath. He could see his slim blue muscles ripple in the candlelight. His strong shoulders lead to a tight waist, and he had an ass that Farkas could just... The Wolf was appearing again. Soon he was wearing only his loincloth. It was larger than his own. Farkas found this strange, as he always regarded himself as well-endowed, and he didn't understand why a man that small in stature would need to be hung that well. He walked over to his bag and pulled out a tunic and well-worn pants. The Elf didn't seem to mind that Farkas was staring blankly at him as he changed, and simply smiled back at him when he was done. Now seated at a desk, too busy writing something to pay any attention to Farkas, the warrior relaxed to the sounds of pen on paper. For a moment, Farkas wondered if it had something to do with the reason he was hired, but he pushed his thoughts away. It wasn't like him to ask any questions.

The Elf quickly finished what he was writing and was soon headed to the bed. He carefully moved into the bed beside him and rolled on his side to look up at the handsome Nord beside him. Farkas tilted his head to meet his gaze, and was greeted again by a mischevious smile.

"Well, Farkas," Eranthur started, "it seems we're going to be closer than I expected while we're on this journey." The Elf seemed to laugh at the last statement. 

"Unless you are incredibly opposed to the idea, Farkas, I try to sleep as nature intended," Ernathur began, pulling at the strings of his loincloth.

"No, I like it," Farkas replied, and then stuttered, "I mean, I like the idea. It's more comfortable."

Farkas couldn't understand himself. He always fumbled over his words, but today he was making a mess of things. What was it about this elf that made him feel so terribly tongue-tied?

"Of course, you should make yourself feel comfortable as well, Farkas. Keep as much," the elf began to smile, "or as little on as you'd wish."

"It is getting kinda hot. I might take this off."

"Very well," Eranthur said, "I certainly don't mind."

There was a playful lilt in the elf's voice that made Farkas' face light up. He was very friendly with Farkas; he was easily the most pleasant man outside of the Companions he had ever traveled with. But this man made him feel different. He knew it wasn't because he was an elf; Athis was a Dark Elf like he was and he certainly didn't make him feel this way. Farkas decided to write it off as the man being a mage.

Eranthur bit his lip as Farkas tugged at the bottom of his cuirass, but quickly turned away and covered up his lower half with the sheet. The Nord worried if he had somehow made him uncomfortable, but the fur lining off his overclothes was unbearable. He was careful not to disturb the new wound he gained. It was just a bite from a wolf they had come across on the road here; his armor lifted up as he got ready to swing his greatsword and his stomach was exposed. He took a potion and managed to keep the injury hidden from Ernathur.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"You're an absolutely exquisite specimen, Farkas," the dark elf whispered, inches away from the Nord's face.

His Wolf was eager and barred his neck to him. He was beyond words at his point. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he knew he wanted the Thane to do it. He had never felt this way before. He had never met anyone who calmed his Wolf the way this man did.

“Sit up.” Farkas did as he was told. He was mesmerized by the creature in front of him. The spellsword sat on his knees and pressed against Farkas, his length touching the fur on the outside of his clothes.

“Can I take these off?” Farkas nodded, still at a loss for words. He was beginning to get nervous. He had never done anything like this before. His length startled Farkas and only served to remind him of his inexperience. Maybe this wasn’t the best decision. The look of disbelief elicited a chuckle out of the elf. He lifted his hips as the other man slid his pants off. All at once Farkas remembered his secret. It was too late.

“Oh,” the mage was shocked, “I see the transformation has a more lasting effect than I thought.” He looked into Farkas’ eyes and saw the fear. He knew he was worried. It was dangerous for anyone to know, both to him and all the Companions. His voice only a whisper now. “It’s okay. You’re a werewolf. I suspected as much. I won’t tell anyone.” The other man’s face grew softer as he spoke. “I like it, Farkas. I like you. I think you’re beautiful.”

This took Farkas by surprise and his face was flushed now. Beautiful? He had been called many things in his life, a few of them that made the blood rush to his cheeks, but beautiful? His head was whirling. He had just let out the Companions greatest secret in a moment of weakness. To a mage no less. And now he had just called him beautiful. The color that rose just a minute ago was quickly draining.

“I understand. We don’t have to go any farther.” His voice was still soft. It made the Wolf in Farkas grow. The Wolf didn’t want to stop. Farkas wasn’t quite able to make up his mind. The mage rolled back on his heels and looked down.

“I’m sorry. Maybe I went too far. I just-” Farkas couldn’t control it. The Wolf pinned the other man against the bed. The Wolf pushed past the mage’s lips and growled into him. It wasn’t until he tasted the bitter mead from the other man’s tongue that Farkas was able to get the animal side of him under control.

“Uh,” Farkas mustered, “I like you too.” The Elf under him was blushing now, but Farkas didn’t notice. He sat back on the mage’s thighs, accidentally rubbing himself on his length. Farkas felt like a fumbling mess.

“Farkas,” Ernathur murmured, “I liked that.” He looked into the Nord’s eyes. “But we need to talk.” Farkas went pale again.

“You’ve never been with another man before, have you?”

“No.” He was embarrassed. He looked down at the man’s chest.

“Oh, you’ve never been with anyone, have you Farkas?”

“My Wolf gets too excited,” his voice faltered, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Look at me. Do I look scared of you?” He was right. His Wolf didn’t smell fear.

“I’ve seen you in battle, Farkas. You’re an impressive sight. You are strong and powerful and a force to be reckoned with.” His Wolf rose again. As did his erection.

“I’m a warrior.”

“You’re also a man. A man whose needs obviously have not been met.”

It was all he could do to keep his Wolf from howling. He didn’t know what he wanted to do.


	4. Chapter 4

“What do you think about, Farkas?” He felt himself pulse. He was lying in front of this stranger, completely exposed.

“I try not to think too much.”

“But you have to think about something. What do you imagine when you find yourself alone on a quiet, cold, Skyrim night?”

“I like to think about someone else doing the work for me,” Farkas replied looking at the pouty lips of the Dark Elf in front of him, "maybe with their mouth."

“I can do that.”

Eranthur leaned forward and propped himself up on one elbow. Farkas didn’t know, but the elf in front of him had been intending to do that the entire time. Eranthur gingerly grabbed the base of his length in his free hand. His hand felt so much different than his own. His palm was soft and strong, with no calluses from holding a sword or cracked nails that turned into claws. This reminded Farkas that he had no idea what to do with his hands. He felt nervous and the man between his legs noticed.

“You can hold my hair back, if you’d like.”

Farkas nodded and held back the other man’s braid. He felt strange holding it with both hands and decided to put his other on his shoulder. He kissed the oil that had pooled up at the warrior’s pointed tip. He dragged his lips slowly and made small circles with his tongue, making sure he looked him in the eye. The mage was doing things Farkas had never even imagined before. Of course, he had heard his brother talk about these things before, but he didn’t want to think about Vilkas right now. Rather, Farkas focused his attention on the mage working on his pulsing cock with gusto.

His head began to bob on his length and the other man was careful to trace his veins on the way down. On the way up, he hollowed his cheeks, making Farkas’ face contort in pleasure. Eranthur managed to fit his entire cock into his mouth, and Farkas was feeling that familiar tightness in his stomach. He was going to knot. He was worried it would hurt him, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Pulling away would only hurt the both of them. He watched himself fill the mage's mouth and he could see the corners of his lips lift into a smile, even as he felt his pointed tip hit the back of the elf's throat. It was okay, he wasn't going to hurt him.

They laid there in silence, staring into each other's eyes. Farkas in the afterglow of his orgasm had finally relaxed, and Ernathur, for his part, was doing his best to relax around the knot in his mouth. Slowly, the swelling decreased and the Dunmer was able to withdraw.

"Did you like that, Farkas?"

"Yea, it was good," the Nord panted, his hands still stuck in the Dunmer's hair.

It made Ernathur smile. He had always wanted to suck off a werewolf.


	5. Chapter 5

“You’re not going to want anything else, are you?” Farkas asked, nervously. He was leaned against the Elf, head on his chest, nuzzling softly.

“Maybe a mead,” the elf replied curtly. He was sitting next to Farkas on the bed now, running his fingers through the Nord’s greasy hair. Farkas didn’t know it, but the Elf was still savoring the salty sticky taste he left in his mouth. “I’d kill for some horker stew, actually. I would have never thought it, but the local food grows on me. Why?”

“Vilkas said that men that sleep with men do it from behind.” This took the Elf by surprise, and this in turn surprised Farkas.

“And how would your brother know?”

“He has Ysgramor’s smarts.”

“Mmm, yes. I’m sure that was something that Ysgramor was well-acquainted with,” Eranthur said, smiling. Farkas turned back around to look quizzically into the Elf’s eyes, and the Elf looked right looked back into Farkas’ eyes. “Well. Some men like it. Some men that sleep with women do that. It’s up to the people involved.”

Farkas had never thought of it like that. I suppose women could do all the same things men could do. Well, except for the one thing.

"Besides, do I really strike you as someone who wants to do that sort of thing?" Eranthur continued, and then looked quizzically at Farkas. "Don't answer that, love. Silly question."

"So you're not going to want to go back there, right?" Farkas asked again, just to make sure.

"No, no of course not Farkas. Not unless you really convince me. Now, if you wanted to..." the Elf stopped. "We'll talk about that later. Do you know why I hired someone to help me?"

"No. The Jarl said you would tell me the details when I met you. That it was a secret."

"Very good. Well, we're going to deal with some, uh, old acquaintances of mine. I know them from prior business arrangements, but things have since gone sour. I requested personally that I dealt with this. And as Thane and former Stormcloak officer, he humbly complied. There will be bloodshed, but as a warrior, I'm sure you're prepared. Don't worry, these aren't citizens, they are wannabe bandits with a sizable bounty on their head."

"I can do that."


End file.
